Otherness

I had lunch with a friend, M. He’s one of those people who could have wound up on the “someone I used to know” list, except I hate that breakups of romantic ties mean losing a friend. So we lunch. In public. Juuuust in case we're a little too tempted by each other. He asked if I had any trips coming up, and I told him about Arizona, and the whole premise as to why. 

To which he said, “That’s dumb.”

“Enlighten me,” I said, wondering if I somehow didn’t explain the whole endeavor well.

“For one, you can’t stop being you. You ARE the educated liberal elite. Everything about you screams that, from the work you do to how you carry yourself to the fact that this project is even something you care about. For two, I think this project is more about you than anyone else. This is for your own healing, because frankly, you’re not going to heal anyone, or anything, else. And three, those people won’t change. Trust me, I’ve spent plenty of time with them, and they’re uneducated and unenlightened. The only thing we can do is educate them...or maybe take their kids away and raise them in a new society.”

Hold the presses. Halt the horses. Did he just say those people? Did he just say those people are too unenlightened to raise their own kids?

His plan sounded one hell of a lot like the words white people used for years to take Inuit children away from their families, the words white people used to push forward a social mentality of segregation.

My first inclination was to tell M he’s missing the point. That I don’t want to change people...I want to hear them. But I want to hear him, too, and I’m not sure getting defensive is the best response here.

Instead, I said: “I think the divisiveness you’re expressing, the "us" versus "them" mentality — that’s the issue. Maybe it sounds a little Kumbaya of me, but we need to stop looking at what makes us different, and really look at what makes us the same...American. Besides the soil we stand on.”

“Kumabya indeed.” He rolls his eyes. “Well, I care about you, so I want you to do what you want to do. But I just don’t think this is going to do anything for anyone but yourself.”

I've been perhaps obsessing over the idea of "otherness" lately and have come to this conclusion: if we think of other Americans — whether it be due to class, race, political belief or some other differentiator — as “those people” then we’re already fucked.